When I was a teenager, burnt CDs were the thing. If a boy made you a burnt CD, geez almighty that meant you must be getting married. A whole burnt CD of Iron and Wine songs, and you know that boy was digging your chili. Gosh, kids these days… they just will never know the beauty of receiving a burnt CD as a gift from somebody haha. And I mean, let’s be real, I had one made for every mood of mine. I had Taylor Swift albums, High School Musical Mixes, one called “Depressing Love Songs”, and another called “Party, Get Loud”… the list goes on and on. Unfortunately, burnt CDs always met that day after much wear and tear that they would start skipping or get stuck on the same line and keep repeating over, and over, and over. My T Swift Fearless CD got to the point that it literally always repeated the same line, like a DJ Remix, on The Way I Loved You at “2 Am and I’m cursing your name.” I would have to press “next” and never hear the rest of that song, because it couldn’t move past that one line.

Like my favorite Taylor Swift CD became after lots of wear and tear in my silver Escape, Angie, I have found myself the last couple of weeks saying over and over, on repeat, “It’s always something.”  Then followed every single time by a half-hearted giggle attempt to press “next”, all while adding another tally to my “things I would rather not have happening right now”. Slowly as the tallies add up, the weight I feel on my shoulders from the events of the past weeks weigh me down all before inevitably cracking. There is crying, there is anger, there is feeling like a victim, there is frustration and bad moods… no matter how the weight decides to unload itself, it none the less comes out and I have to sit and sift through all the reasons I feel this way.

I always end back up at the tally board.

It’s okay to be frustrated in days, or weeks, or even seasons of “one thing after the next”, where you feel like the same line is stuck on repeat. It’s okay to feel the burden of the world, because we are human and are going to experience the weight of humanity that only God can bear. But, the freedom in that is that we are not made to carry the weight. We are not made to keep tally or score of what has gone wrong in our day. Rather, we were wired to daily open our hands and release our cares and worries to a gracious God who is WAY better at carrying them for us, healing our wounds for us, fixing the things we can’t fix for FOR US. We just forget that we are made to NOT carry our burdens. Sounds silly when you say it out loud, right? We are literally created to worship God and daily remind ourselves of who he is and, because of how human we are, we are daily reminded of who we are not. But, we forget. Proper recognition of who God is leads to a beautiful relationship with him. It’s one that says, “I know where I stand and it’s at your feet, because you already conquered this. There is already victory.” But, again… we too often forget. We can’t, but He can. How liberating when we remember that, right? That’s why God says his mercies are new every day. Lamentations 3:22-23 says, “The steadfast love of the Lord never ceases; his mercies never come to an end; they are new every morning; great is your faithfulness.” Steadfast, meaning He is constant and unwavering. New every morning, never ceasing, because he will never say “you have been stressed out one day too many.” That’s not how he works (thank goodness).

So, here I am fully aware of the freedom that comes with saying, “I can’t carry this today, Lord”, yet I find sometimes that even when I think I have released my cares and burdens, I never really did because I find myself back at the tally board counting the things that have gone wrong in the last month, two weeks… year, whatever your timeline on the tally board might be. If love keeps no record of wrongs, not only am I failing my earthly relationships when I keep tally of wrongs, but I am failing to acknowledge how good God is when I keep record of  things I feel wronged in.

“Well God, this happened, and then this bill came, and then our car broke down, and then we fought about this, and then our tire popped, and then we fought again about all the things we are stressed about… are you there? Do you care? Are you honestly just watching this unfold? I think we have maxed out our tallies for the month.” Tally tally tally. Adding up all the things we feel unjustly wronged in, which will always end in a state of victimhood. Ouch, yikes. Who has been around people who live as the victim in everything? It’s hard to be around isn’t it? You want to get away from that real quick. Well, newsflash, if you’re keeping tallies of the bad things that have happened in the day, week, month… you’re no better. Remove the plank, my friends.

OOOWEEE, we are preaching this morning. 

So, what’s my encouragement for you today? Be upset, cry a little bit in the bathroom to feel the weight of “another thing”, but then release it. And I mean actually release it. Not just a “God, I need you to fix this for me” prayer, while then sitting around watching for instant relief. And if it doesn’t come, tally. I mean, release it. God, you are working all things for your good. And, I know that you love me, therefore, this will end well. Somehow, some way, this will end with you receiving glory and shining through this situation.

Then, “next”. Enjoy the next song, sing it as loud and zealous as you possibly can without getting hung up on the last line that kept repeating. Feel the weight, pray, breathe, toss it up, and trek onward.

On a separate note, I want to say how absolutely devastated I am over the massacre in Las Vegas. I feel that weight, I have been trying to shake that burden, but I carry a righteous anger for innocent lives lost. Be angry about this, be shocked, be sad. I have been in shock for the last day, praying for Jesus to make himself known and turn this devastation into something beautiful… somehow. Far beyond my ability to comprehend how something so horrible could be made into something beautiful, I am still believing in it because that is who God is and that is his character. Good will rise from ashes. Pray, love, and now- more than ever- bite your tongue against arguments that aren’t worth having in the midst of people’s pain. Sure, let’s have necessary conversations when the wounds of devastation are not still gushing. Humility is recognizing your opinions don’t matter as much as love does.

Be kind, friends. Love people well. In the midst of chaos, in the midst of a time in this country where it feels like EVERYONE is on a different page about something, fight to love those who look different than you, act different than you, voted for somebody different than you *gasp*, have a different religion than you, kneel or stand during the National Anthem… Yeah, I am going there. I am hitting it all.

Nobody, and I mean NOBODY, asked or -how icky to even have to say it- deserves to be mindlessly murdered. I have seen such ignorant comments on social media about those who were lost, and I have wanted to vomit at some of them. Those were moms, dads, brothers, sisters, children, hard workers, dreamers… the list goes on, and all of those roles, relationships, and titles just ended in an instant. Let us be mindful of this. Let us be pushed toward love, without pointed fingers and without taking someone’s devastation as an opportunity to push opinions. I truly am speaking from both ends of the “political scale”, if you will. I could give two craps about who you voted for, what you believe, or what cause you fight for. I love and appreciate your passion. So let’s take that passion and put it toward loving people, of all kinds, and recognizing it’s ok for us to differ but it’s not okay for what just happened to happen. We can find unity in that. Let’s take a stand together in that.

xoxo- Han

Phew, I feel like it’s been a hot minute since I have been in “my groove”, and I wanted to check-in with you guys to say “Hi, I am here,  I am working on a lot of new content for you, and I promise this whole MIA thing on the blog isn’t/won’t be the norm.”  Thank you for your grace and patience with me as I have tried to figure out a new rhythm. If you’re new around here… here’s a quick update for you: A few weeks ago, I was hospitalized for contractions, and we aren’t talking Braxton Hicks. I was having real deal pre-term contractions (holy moly, that pain though!), and they had to keep me over night. Essentially, sedating my uterus to keep me from going into labor at 22 weeks. The Lord moved and worked in my body in ways I truly can only say “That was the Lord”, and I honestly believe I got to be part of a miracle through the power of prayer and God’s grace on my body. We went from them telling me “You are a worst case scenario right now” and “Let’s just make it to 24 weeks where he can, in theory, live outside of the womb with a lot of help” to being completely healed. Measurements they had made day 1 of my cervix were completely different day 2. Now, at 26 weeks and a week out from the third trimester, Baby Boy is still cooking nicely, moving around a whole lot, and though my contractions are still happening, they aren’t frequent or near as painful. PRAISE THE LORD. Although, I will say, I am kind of thankful for the test run we had. I have the personality of someone who likes to know exactly what she is in for or about to do. I ask a million questions to prepare myself mentally, and I do not do well with walking into any situation blind or off the cuff. So now, I know what is in store for me with contractions, and we got to experience exactly where we will need to go when I am in true labor… It honestly, in a weird way, has made me feel a little more prepared. I am thankful for my contractions I have had, particularly the ones that made me fall over in the middle of downtown Mckinney… haha. But, no really, I feel like I got to prepare myself for how to cope with them and fight through them. Anyways, so after I returned from the hospital, I was on bed rest for a week (and, at the time, we thought I might be put on bed rest for the remainder of my pregnancy). Clearly, my schedule has been way out of whack for a few weeks, I haven’t been able to shoot much for you guys, and I have to take things a little slower than before. Thank you for walking with me in it all.

Alright so fast forward, though, and here we are! Paul and I just came out of a 21 day fast with our church, and we chose to fast from TV together. We had known about this 21 day fast way before what happened with me, which ended up to be funny timing. We decided the only thing we were allowed to watch all 21 days was our summer show Big Brother, because it is something we do together and it’s a weird time of bonding for us. I honestly wasn’t sure how hard it would be to keep the television off, but it proved to be extremely tough. I work from home all day, and I didn’t realize how often I turn the television on just for white noise in the background or to feel less alone. The struggle was even more real being on bed rest… what the heck am I actually supposed to do when I am confined to my sofa on my side? Which, let’s be real, I sucked at bed rest. My mom stayed with us a few days to help out and I got in trouble every 10 minutes, it felt like. After she left, Paul had to get on me all the time. I would mindlessly get up, clean, rearrange things… I am totally my grandmother. And, every time I would go to pick up the remote, I would catch myself and pray (and giggle at how mindless routine can be). I was forced to prayer, silence, and rest.

With my bed rest, I felt helpless and worthless… I feared being called lazy (which is crazy, I know)- but, just being honest, being called “lazy” is one of my greatest fears in life and I was being forced to feel that fear and face it head on. (Ugh, we are baring it all this morning aren’t we? Ha) I had a really hard time with being told to sit, do nothing, don’t work… and not only was it good for me, it was expected of me. I was being forced to face a major idol in my life and there was nothing to distract me. No Gilmore Girls, no Friends, no news… just silence. Wait, what? Don’t work? But, I have worked a job and done “things” since… well, forever. I have always worked. You are telling me not to be productive in any way? I can’t even COOK? I tried to cook one night, and I almost was hospitalized again. Clearly, there was a lot to pray about. And, with the fast, that kind of was all I was able to do. We were having trouble with our wifi in the middle of all this, so even after my week of bed rest was over, there were days I couldn’t work because my wifi wasn’t working. We only have one car, so I couldn’t hop in the car and work from a coffee shop… I was stuck. Finally, one day I had a melt down. What in the world was God trying to teach me?! Hadn’t I given up enough? (That’s literally what I asked him… oy.) I have always known that I can easily fall into a trap of being defined by my performance and work ethic, and I was being forced to look at my idol straight in the eyes. Like I said, funny timing. But, of course, God’s timing is perfect timing and there was no doubt purpose to the timing of my bed rest being in the middle of our fast.

What was great about our fast as a couple was Paul and I didn’t get to sit down after a long day of work to a screen where we were “spending time together” … but not really. We had to be intentional with conversation and time. We played board games, read books, cooked and baked, played with Presley outside, or went on drives. We went to bed less frantic feeling and woke up more rested. My biggest fear with Baby Boy on the way, along with some other life changes before he gets here in the coming weeks, is losing my time with my husband. Like, y’all, I wept on the sofa the other night thinking about how my time as just us is about to be over in a few weeks. It will never be just us in our home ever again. I grieved what was, and though excited beyond belief for what is to come, I don’t do change well and I have a hard time allowing my comfort to be tested. Having a baby certainly rips up and tosses out the window routine and comfort. Then, in my grief, I have felt a little guilty… like how can I be sad when we are about to be crazy blessed? But, a friend and fellow mommy told me this yesterday:

No matter the sweetness of a change, it is still change and it means there is time to grieve the loss of something. 

I cried immediately when I read her words, because I felt the guilt of grief lift from my shoulders. I felt validated in all of the emotions I was feeling. And, as she is now the happy mommy of a beautiful boy, there is hope on the other side of the grief and change. This is why we have Godly community. It’s so necessary.

So here we are, week 1 out of our fast, and trying to keep a rhythm of intentionality. The TV is there, but we are aiming to keep it minimal. I really loved the time we had together with no television, and I don’t want to lose that intentionality especially in these final weeks of just us. Fasting is hard, but it is a beautiful thing. As believers, we are called to fast from time to time. Sometimes, we fast for something specific for God’s intervention. Other times, we fast because it’s an act of obedience. Whatever your reason for a fast, there is always fruit. Keep your fast between you and God while you are in it, and pick some community who can keep you accountable. See what he is teaching you, what obstacles arise for you to face without distraction, and how you can pray more in it all.

I love you guys so much, and I am so grateful for you!! Like I said, there is so much new content coming to the blog. We have been hard at work over here creating and shooting, and getting back in step with things. I can’t wait to share everything I have in the works with you. I took note of every single thing you sent me for content suggestions, and we will be rolling it all out in the coming months.

xoxo- Han